Only Liars

Photo by Zhaocan Li

I miss you in my bones when you’re standing right here.

You talk without blinking and you laugh without fear.

These days you are only a name and an address.

I’m frightened to leave you, so I just get undressed.

These lines that we read get swallowed by mirrors.

You’re wiser than me but you can’t see much clearer.

If it wasn’t in the cards, why did we press it?

This forbidden fruit is rotten, but the taste is possessive.

You’re slipping through the cracks in the kitchen floor,

And I might shatter if I don’t feel adored.

This balancing act is wearing out our common sense.

Only liars claim that love feels like its godsent.

-Jackie

Where Life Goes To Die

Photo by Lisa Fotios

Deep in my webs, where only spiders can reach,

I know I am forlorn.

No need to say your speech.

Somewhere in my skull a new dawn always breaks.

Please leave me behind,

Do not touch the brakes.

The ledge always tempts me, it calls my name.

I want to catch that high,

Trap it in a frame.

Yet, deep in my desert, where life goes to die,

I know I stand alone.

No need for you to cry.

-Jackie

House Of Mirrors

Photo by Darya Sannikova

I hide under cheap pseudonyms to anonymize my growing pain,

Honesty smothers me in my sleep like some glassy cellophane.

I seek out watery love that won’t bruise me and won’t stain.

The covers of my book are closing, but I don’t want to die in vain.

I walk my road like there is no bigger curse than leaving a mark.

The greyness has crooked teeth, and they tend to leave deep scars,

But I would rather stay distorted, I would rather stay in the dark.

My mirrors are all painted over, and my heart is colder than Mars.

-Jackie

Not Your Madonna, Not Your Mistress

Photo by Mariana Montrazi

Some evenings I cannot tell my enemies from my oldest friends,

And the whiskey sour in my glass tells me that it is alright to pretend.

They look at me with venomous eyes, like they would take my place,

But every single morning I wish I could disappear without a trace.

Honey, I am not your Madonna, but I am not your mistress either.

No matter how you view me, you cannot kill my truth with fire.

You praise me, please me, beg me to break almost like you own me,

And I wonder – is it because you care or because you are so lonely?

Some nights I do not know if there is anyone left here to listen.

People tend to disperse as soon as one’s backbone gets christened.

They consume me like red wine, then they blame me for the headache.

Every morning I do not remember if I am real or just my namesake.

-Jackie

Building You A Hearse

Photo by Aditya Modi

I don’t speak in threats, but I will give you words of warning –

Be careful who you break, you might get cut on the shards.

There are people in this city who found my youth charming,

Then tried to burn my backbone until it was charred.

I don’t break like a tree branch, I don’t bend with the winds.

My heart is made of glass, and every piece of me stings.

These people crushed my youth like it was a fatal sin,

And they claimed it was a lesson in clipping rosy wings.

But I don’t have any tolerance for cruelty and violence.

When they broke my last bone, they agreed to get cursed.

As you walk these busy streets, enjoying your silence,

Know that somewhere in the suburbs I am building you a hearse.

-Jackie

Your Prophet

Photo by Veronica

We celebrate the stars and their mystical ways,

Then twist the blade as soon as someone disobeys.

The glimmer in my eyes looks a lot like Saturn’s rings.

I spin my red pupils as the Moon spreads its wings.

My followers bow low to the pink cotton candy sky,

And I chant loudly, begging destiny for an alibi.

The wind twirls my long skirt into the Milky Way

As I lower my bejeweled head in a modest display.

We pray to the gods like they don’t live among us,

Then turn our tongues and call other people fungus.

But you do what you have to, I am the prophecy.

I will fill your cup with venom and watch you bleed.

-Jackie

They’ll Stay For The Show

Photo by Alexey Demidov

I keep running out of pages to stain with my ink,

I keep running out of people to grab as I sink.

They call me an anchor, a dead weight, a pity.

They tell me my sadness could drown this city.

But secretly they want to watch it all unravel.

I am just a test run, an echo of a gavel.

My doom satisfies them more than a rich meal,

And my joy trips them up like an Achilles’ heel.

I keep smothering myself with their intentions,

I keep catching on fire from the lingering tension.

They watch me being torn apart like a page,

And they clap as the pieces whirl off the stage.

-Jackie

Hope Tells You Things

Photo by Bruna Gabrielle Félix

Hope tells you that my young mind can be changed,

But you used to know me when I hid my rage.

These lines that you write sound like nothing happened,

Like I fell on your dagger, but it did not matter.

Some try to tell me that these grey storms will pass,

But I notice when the ceiling is made out of glass.

Anything would be better than your fake smiles.

Do you ever punch your gilded bathroom tiles?

You shattered me quickly and with high precision.

All I did was made you relive your poor decisions.

You know what they say about making your bed.

If you shoot the front runner, you will not get ahead.

Hope tells you things, but your conscience does not.

You crossed the red line, and you did not stop.

Go and find your closure anywhere but here,

Go and bury my ghost, I will not shed a tear.

-Jackie

When The Fire Goes Out

Photo by Tolga Aslantürk

We were putting out fires wherever we looked,

We saved the pages in this star-crossed book.

The headlines painted you as another paladin,

Then cursed me for acting like a mannequin.

We danced hand in hand on the steepest hill,

Absorbing the danger like a sweet pill.

Somebody called my boldness just a farce,

Then re-wrote your name on a rising star.

You know you deserve all the glory you get,

But we swore to fight them until our deaths.

Now you embrace all the polished covers

While they rip apart my friends and lovers.

Maybe this is for the best, maybe I failed,

Maybe my pain is chasing its own tail.

We were at the top, but you stepped higher.

They pulled us apart and put out my fire.

-Jackie

Violent, Violent Delights

Photo by Darya Sannikova

These secondhand lovers keep wasting my nights,

They keep spilling my lust, flying feelings like kites.

Your dark gaze grounds me, but only for a moment.

We both know you are not a worthy opponent.

The glitz and the glamour of passion revolts me.

Each new love I find quickly rots and turns moldy.

I wish I could soak up your brown eyes with mine,

Playing truth like a violin on your bare spine.

But we have played that game in some lonely nights.

My skin gets tired of your violent delights.

So, I fill every second with counterfeit lovers,

Dreaming one day they slay me,

Then kill each other.

-Jackie